Page 82 of Caveman Alien's Bride

A feast has been prepared a few steps away, and we sit down to eat while the drums play and the Elders come up with a chant that’s much less sad than during a funeral.

I put my mouth to Bryar’s ear. “Are you happy, my bride?”

She smiles with immensely red lips and eyes that have never looked bigger or more beautiful. “I’ve never been happier, my groom.”

My insides go warm and hot, as if they melt. “They want you to be a member of the tri-”

“Chief!” A gatekeeper comes running. “Chief! Krast men are here!”

I bounce to my feet, sudden fury coursing through me. “Krast men? During my wedding? We shall kill them all!”

“It’s not an attack!” the guard says. “They ask to speak with you,”

“Take her to the chief’s cave!” I command, pointing at Bryar. “With a dozen men as her guards!”

I walk fast to the gate and climb into the watchtower. Indeed three green-striped Krast men are standing outside the gate, their sword in their scabbards.

“What do you want?” I yell, still angry. “This is a solemn occasion for the Borok tribe!”

“Chief Korr’ax,” a Krast man begins, “please excuse this intrusion. We’re truly sorry about having disturbed you. Of course we shall wait outside your wall until you have time to see us.”

Placated by his respectful tone, I order the gates opened. Plainly the Krast are not here to wage war.

I climb down to the ground. “What is it?” I demand.

“Chief Korr’ax of the Borok and Tretter tribes,” the man begins. “The skarp came through our village. It razed half of it and killed many tribesmen. We come to ask for peace and for help. Any help the Borok tribe can give would be gratefully received. The skarp… it killed one of our Lifegivers. We still have five, but the loss is terrible. Hunting has been terrible. Our creek! The skarp destroyed it and now we don’t know where the water is. We have no clean water for the Lifegivers!”

“Who sent you?” I ask for certainty. “Was it the shaman or the chief?”

“It was the shaman. The chief was killed by the skarp.”

“Killed by the skarp and missed by nobody,” I reply. “Men of the Krast tribe, you arrive at a fortunate time! For I have again married my wife. But this time, she had a choice. She choseme!And so I am in a good mood. The Borok tribe shall help the Krast tribe in its time of need. The Tretter tribe shall help, too.”

The Krast men are dumbfounded.

“We thank you, Chief Korr’ax!” the leader finally manages. “You have no reason to love the Krast tribe. But still you promise help! Indeed your stripes are as green as ours. The shaman has said that if you agreed to aid us, we must beg you to be our chief, as well. For nobody else has shown us such grace. Nobody has been as powerful and as renowned as the great Chief Korr’ax! Indeed, nobody-”

“Stop!” I command, never a friend of excessive praise. “Your point is taken, men of Krast. We shall help. When it comes to your lost chief, we shall discuss it later. For now, you are invited to join us in our celebration.”

The drums start again, and the old men keep chanting.

Bryar gives me a mischievous smile when I sit down beside her. “You will be the chief of Krast now, too.”

“Perhaps,” I answer airily. “I think two tribes will be enough for any man to rule.”

“Is your dream,” she points out. “Chief of three tribes.”

“Youare my dream,” I tell her sincerely. “I would happily live on the beach and not be the chief of any tribe if only you were there.”

Bryar’s eyes get a wet sheen to them. “I know, my love. Do as you wish with the tribes. I love you just as much if we living on the beach.”

I get to my feet. “Let’s go home. The tribe can celebrate without us.”

Bryar stands up. “They good celebrators. Not need us for that.”

The men laugh and cheer as my wife and I leave and go up the stairs to the chief’s cave.

Bryar puts her bunch of flowers in a tall, water-filled pot that she asked for. “It make no sense to throw this. No unmarried women in all of Borok tribe.”

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